Yes, this book does have a rather fatuous title. Are we supposed to giggle or something? The book is a sort of biography of Australian Communist Guido Baracchi, most notably the many women he fell in love with, then dumped when he found new loves. The manner is which he conducted his love life seemed almost childish, tossing away women when he was done with them as though they were toys he had grown tired with.
Although the book is neatly written, I came away with a none too clear understanding of what Communism meant in Australia, and to its polity.
Guido Baracchi didn't strike me as a very interesting character at all. What was his legacy? God knows.
I can't recommend you read this book, unless you are studying the period or something. That's a shame. I came to the book full of optimism that it would be a great read. All the ingredients seemed to be there. Melbourne politics during the tumultuous war periods between 1914-1945. Yet the book's main characters seemed unimportant to me.
Their blindness to Stalin's crimes, when they were happening right under their noses, doesn't make one sympathetic.